


Confess Your Sins

by Superdaisies



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Dirty Confession blog, M/M, Parse likes fanfic, kind of vague sexual fantasies, which sort of turns into Dirty Jack Zimmermann Confession Blog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:29:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6808987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superdaisies/pseuds/Superdaisies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New England hockey fangirls cried the day dirtyfalconersconfessions became an active tumblr account.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confess Your Sins

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked to write this today. It's not like I've got finals or anything. My first shot at writing something even slightly resembling NSFW.

New England hockey fangirls cried the day dirtyfalconersconfessions became an active tumblr account.

It didn’t so much slowly grow a following but rather popped out of nowhere and full on snowballed. Initial posts were mundane enough. At least as mundane as an NSFW blog about sex and hockey players could get.

_“I’d love Guy beard burn.”_

_“Every time Snowy says fuck all I can think about is what he would sound like saying it in bed.”_

_“I want to pull Poots’ hair. While he eats me out”_

_“Mashkov probably has the BIGGEST dick. I’d love for him to slam me up against the glass and show me it in person.”_

_“Damn. Jack Zimmermann’s ass. I don’t know if I’d rather caress it or smack the hell out of it.”_

The more popular the blog got, the more submissions began to pile up.

 

_X_

 

“I don’t like this as much as I liked running that other ask blog for the team,” Holster announced, pushing back from his laptop and rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

“A bet’s a bet, my man,” Ransom shouted from the living room.

“I was drunk, those don’t count.”

“Bro, drunk bets _double_ count. You can’t go back on a bet like that.”

Holster let his head fall to the table.

“Hey Bitty? Never make a hockey blog when you’re drunk. Understand me? Never. This was the worst decision of my life. Don’t make drunk hockey blogs.” Bitty nodded, half listening, as he mixed brownie batter on the table next to Adam.

“Because sometimes you make a drunk hockey blog. And your best bro says he knows you can’t run the blog for more than a day. And you bet him you can run it for three months. Three. Months. Bitty, what was drunk me thinking?”

“Holst-“

“AND you’ve bet a large sum of money and first picks for rooms in the apartment you and your bro are about to get. So you can’t NOT run the blog for the three months, right? I gotta post TWENTY POSTS a _day_ according to Ransom. This is so hard, Bitty. It’s only been a week.”

“Hol-“

“And I’ve already got almost a thousand followers? How did that even happen? Are people just that thirsty for Falconer dick? If I have to see another submission saying they want to call Thirdy Daddy I’m going to cave, I swear. I’m running out of ideas!”

“Adam!”

“Huh? Yeah?”

“You give this same monologue every day. Just make something up. Or better yet, just ask us to help you.”

“I’ll allow it!” Ransom called out.

“But what would you even help with?” Holster mumbled, face still pressed into the tabletop.

Rolling his eyes, Bitty set down his bowl and moved to sit in front of Holster’s computer. The photoshop template was already pulled up and ready to go.

He made quick work, grabbing a photo of Jack Zimmermann, Providence Falconers center forward, off of Google. He put the picture into the document, and selected the layer for text.

_Zimmermann probably has a praise kink so big it can be seen from space and I’d love to tell him what a good boy he is,_ Bitty typed with a smirk.

“Uh, Bits. Is that true?”

“You’ll never know.”

“Oh my god it is.”

Bitty rolled his eyes again, sliding the laptop back to Holster.

“There’s plenty more where that came from. If you need them.”

“This feels bad,” Holster mumbled.

“Think of it this way. Your blog is where people go to fantasize about the Falconers. Well, it not _not_ a fantasy. I just happen to have that fantasy also grounded in actual reality.”

“That’s fuckin’ gross, Bitty.”

“You’re the one who’s always wanting deets.”

“True.”

It was going to be a long three months.

 

_X_

 

_I bet Jack Zimmermann is the noisiest bottom. I’d love to hear him groan while I fucked him until he lost it and made a mess all over himself._

Kent Parson sat back in his sofa and scoffed, moving onto the next post in the Jack tag of the confession blog. He had to admit, some of the posts were pretty accurate. He could remember when getting slammed against the showers wasn’t just a sexy fantasy confession, but another Friday night.

_I want to see Jack’s O face._

“You ever seen him score a goal? You’ve seen it,” Parse murmured to no one. He was still trying to get his mind around the idea that someone out there actually thought that Jack would bottom.

_I would die to be in a threesome with Jack and Alexei. I'd take both their dicks._

Now there was an idea, Kent thought to himself. He locked that fantasy away to be used at a later time. Mashkov, with all that height and girth. And Jack, with _that mouth_. He looked down at his pants, increasingly aware of the effects of the sex fantasy blog on him.

_I just want to take a long bubble bath with Jack Zimmermann. Just washing his big muscles._

Parse sighed and, picked up his iPad, heading to his bedroom. Kit meowed, as if to remind him that whacking off to the mental image of a bubble bath with Jack might just be a new personal low.

“Shut up.”

 

_X_

 

The submission read: _I personally don’t thing Jack Zimmermann would EVER be a bottom. That boy’s a giver, not a receiver._

“Tell that to Jack last night,” Bitty laughed quietly into his coffee.

“Wait someone really submitted that?” Ransom peered over Bitty’s shoulder at the screen. He frowned, “Like, someone is actually trying to start a fight over if Jack is a top of a bottom?”

“Not only that, but look who submitted it,” Holster said, clicking the link to the blog that has sent the message.

Therealkvparse opened in the new window and Bitty couldn’t help but laugh.

“Leave it to a Parse fangirl blog to get in a fight over if Jack likes to bottom or not, it's the Great 2010 Fic Discourse all over again,” Ransom sighed, walking back to the coffee maker for a second cup.

“I wrote that original post!” Jack, a man who liked to switch it up sometimes, cried out from the other side of the table.

He grabbed the laptop, ready to make a new confession post.

“Jack,” Holster spoke up, reaching to get his computer back, “Bud, literally what are you going to do? Make a post like, ‘Hey everyone! It’s actually seriously Jack Zimmermann and I’ve been making half these posts for the last month and a half! Surprise!’ And like, film yourself to prove it? You can’t and you know you can’t.”

Jack drummed his fingers and sat back in momentary resignation.

 

_X_

 

“How does it feel to be playing a team that’s even more offensive than the you guys?” the reporter asked, shoving a tape recorder in Jack’s face.

“Well, you know. I love playing offense. To me, there’s no better feeling than putting my puck in the goal. But you know, sometimes, with teams like this, you’ve got to change it up. I don’t always want to be the driving force, and really having to play on the defensive tonight was a welcome difference. Having someone else be the one to take shots on me changes the pace of the game, it’s not expected, and so I can stay on my toes and makes the game even better. The feeling is completely different, but not bad. I really like nights where I can change how I receive whatever the other team sends my way.”

Jack smiles and hopes Holster posts the video to his blog as soon as it goes up.

 

_X_

 

_I’ve always had a fantasy where Jack Zimmermann shows me how to ice skate late at night and after everyone leaves the rink, he lays on me on the ice and we go at it._

“Bits! We were just talking about this one! Did you submit it to Holster’s blog?” Jack asked, looking between his phone and his boyfriend.

“Hm? No, I don’t think so. And I’ve never told anyone either. But everyone was there when it kind of came up in the conversation? So maybe Holster wrote it? Or Chowder? We got the idea from him.”

“You know Chris can’t even think about that blog without blushing. I think it was just a lucky guess.”

Bitty laughed, looking at the username of the person who had submitted the confession. “Well, by the looks of it, it was that Kent Parson fangirl.”

“You know? I should have guessed. Oh! I bet we could still get into the rink tonight. You know, if you want to test out a fantasy or two.”

Jack slid his hands up his boyfriend’s waist sliding under Bitty’s shirt. His cool fingers graced against sun kissed abs.

“I don’t feel like I need too much inspiration from strangers on the internet, thank you very much,” Bitty chided, before pulling forward to mouth at Jack’s collarbone. Jack’s hands moved further up, brushing nipples, and sending a chill through his body straight to his dick.

“Shit, honey, your hands are frozen.”

“See? Now imagine how much more fun this would be actually laying on the ice.”

“Actually, you’ve sort of got a point.”

“Of course I’ve got a point.”

“Leave it to Mister Zimmermann over here to bring more hockey into our sex life.”

“You chirp now, but just wait. You'll be really into it.”

Bitty rolled his eyes and sighed, moving his mouth back to Jack’s ice-cold skin.

 

_X_

 

            _I had a dream last night where jack zimmermann was tied up in my bed and the only words he was allowed to say were ‘I love you’ as I ate his ass before he came on my face._

            “You really want to put exactly what we did last weekend up for the whole world to read?”

            “Babe, I said it was a dream. No one would ever believe I got you to be that sappy. It’s anonymous anyways, they’ll never know its anyone who even knows you.”

            Somewhere on the other side of the country, Parse groaned and imagined Jack repeating that he loved him over and over again.

            He figured there were worse kinks to have.

 

_X_

 

Technology was about as much of a fan of Jack Zimmermann as he was of it. He swore he didn’t mean to link Snowy to a post about playing with Tater’s curls. And yet, there he was.

By the end of the week, the whole team had seen Holster’s dirtyfalconersconfessions blog. By the next week, the number of submissions had tripled.

_I just imagine Marty going out, and eating a whole bunch of really good ribs._

_Mmm the way Poots takes his time with sex and makes his lady feel really loved and cherished gets me so turned on._

_Thirdy is a ‘daddy’? No. He’s just my dad. I’m going to make you so proud, dad._

_I would take Tater home to meet my parents_

Holster couldn’t tell what was worse. Random strangers on the internet calling one of his closest friends a sex god. Or twenty five professional athletes using his blog more for confessing really mundane and average things in their lives. He lost one hundred seventy-three followers.

 

_X_

 

Adam pounded down the stairs like it was Christmas morning. He flung his laptop open, surprising a very sleepy Bitty.

He very carefully typed out a message on his computer before hugging Eric and yelling’ “IT’S TIME TO PAY UP, OULRANSI.”

 

_X_

 

Kent woke up slowly. In his sleep, the Falconers dirty confessions blog had updated, and he unlocked his phone to check that before checking any of the text messages he had. He read the first post on the page several times, not sure how to process what he was seeing.

_Hello everyone,_

_I’ve grown kinda fond of this blog over the last three months. However, like weird yogurt or condoms, there was always an expiration date I had to keep in mind. I created this blog drunk one night and I don’t know how I managed to amass as many followers as I did. I’m pretty sure there are more of you following this blog than the entire actual population of Rhode Island. So that’s pretty sick._

_Anyways, I had a bet that I could run this blog for 3 month, and it’s led me to a lot of really weird conversations where I may have learned too much about some good friends of mine. But it’s a learning experience. And now that that 3 months is up, I can’t say that I’ll totally miss this. But I will feel kind of weird not having to constantly update._

_If people want, I’ve taken it upon myself to elect @therealkvparse as a new mod. I texted you the login info, if you want to keep it going. Do good by this blog and remember 2 things. 1) this is a kinkshame free zone. 2) Jack Zimmermann likes to fucking bottom from time to time, get over it._

_Thank you everyone for a dece 3 months. It could have sucked more._

_-Mod Birk Wall_

Kent opened his messages and sure enough the most recent text, from an unknown number, had an email address and password (jackZbottoms!).

He smirked to himself as he opened tumblr on his browser and logged into the account. His fingers typed before he even thought about what he was doing.

_So I have this crazy fantasy where the Falconers are in Las Vegas for playoff finals and…_

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to follow the hockey blog I made while I was drunk, I can be found at   
> taddietango.tumblr.com


End file.
